Clearing Chase
by Tryandfly
Summary: Chase is in prison in Afghanistan for something she didn't do - murder. But when it was the choice between her and one of her baby brothers, she admitted to the crime. When Victor Benedict turns up at the prison, she sees that he has a one track mind and that he wouldn't give her a chance to explain. And she doesn't want to. What'll happen? Will they get their happy ever after?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So, third Benedict story on the go. Feel free to read Losing Grace and Chasing Cara first if you want, but at the moment it isn't really necessary (not since they aren't finished yet). I'm not giving spoilers away for the others, so don't worry about that! ;) But I hope you like this, because it's going to be a side-side project (if you understand that!). Please review because it's just like Christmas when I check my inbox.**

**Well, not quite, but you get what I mean.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Benedict series, but Losing Grace, Chasing Cara and Clearing Chase are definitely mine and all characters that don't belong to Joss Stirling belong to me.**

The cell I had been put into almost a year ago was just as small as always, with the two bunks bolted to the wall and the small toilet in the corner. My cellmate, Rose, and I shared a small shelf on the opposite wall to our beds, and I was sitting on the top bunk staring at the photo that looked up at me. It was the photograph that the guards had allowed us to take only a month ago when my family had come to visit. I stood in the centre, a woman of skin and bones with my home cut (with a razor) wavy red hair that ended just below my chin. I looked at the scratches on my face that I had told I'd got when I'd scratched my face because of my long nails. It was a lie. I'd got them in a fight the day before. My arm was round my little sister who looked so much more mature than when I had last seen her - she shared my red hair, though hers was long and shiny, and was held in place by a pair of sunglasses. Surrounding me were my five brothers, though they had darker, browner, hair.

My analysis of the photograph was cut short by the guards pounding on the door for me, so it was with a reluctant heart that I jumped down, smiled sadly at Rose, and stepped through the open door. "Why am I leaving my cell?" I asked politely, deciding that the best way to figure out what I was curious about would be to ask. This guard, Farrin, was the only one who spoke English well. Since my imprisonment in this Afghan prison, they had tried all manners of ways to communicate with me, and eventually I found that I could talk to Farrin. He'd become not quite a friend, but a companion and the closest thing I had to one, and he sympathized with me - but then again, he believed me to have committed the murder that I had been accused of.

"You have visitor." His heavily accented voice drifted back towards me, and I realised that I'd let him get too far ahead again. Walking faster to catch up with him, I looked through the metal bars at the women. They were all vicious, though they had accepted me into the ranks after a few months, but I had got to know them. All you could do here was talk.

"But my family visited yesterday. They won't be back for another week." I was confused. My family could only visit once a week, and here I was, heading towards them now? It wasn't a bad thing. I missed them with every fibre of my being, and I cherished every moment I had with them.

"No. Not family." He shook his head, and lifted his gun a bit higher to warn off the women who were being escorted back from the visiting room. "He wants just you in room." Farrin said in way of explanation, and I shrugged. I didn't know who else would visit me, everyone had wanted nothing to do with me when I had been shoved in here.

The visitor's room was plain, and the door was locked behind me. It was literally just me and the visitor. They must have trusted him to look after himself - officially, I was a criminal. The man was looking through a file at the centre table, not looking up at me just yet. That was fine with me, it meant I could look at him without being rude. He was tall, dark hair in a pony tail, and looked sort of Hispanic. Must have come from someone in the family then. He didn't look like he was from Afghanistan if I was perfectly honest. Eventually, not bearing the silence, I cleared my throat, causing him to jump and look at me. "Who are you?" I stated the question to him, crossing my arms and staying standing up.

"Please, take a seat." He offered, but when I shook my head, he took to his feet too and offered his hand. "I'm Agent Victor Benedict, F-"

"FBI. I guessed." I interrupted him. American. Of course. I wasn't an American citizen - I'd been born there, but it had been almost immediately that we'd moved to India. I hadn't been on American soil in over two and a half decades. Agent Benedict looked embarrassed, shoving his hand into his pocket when I didn't shake it. "What's an American agent doing over in little ol' Afghanistan, talking to a criminal?" I smirked, before I finally took a seat.

Again, embarrassment crossed his face. I wondered whether he got embarrassed often, or whether it was just having a conversation with someone who was dominating it and not leading it himself. "Like I said, I'm Agent Benedict. Your name is Maria Chase Morgan?"

Snorting, I said, "Chase. Chase Morgan. I legally changed my name when I turned sixteen. Maria's the one on my birth certificate." I leaned forward across the table. "My birth certificate in America. My, my, the boy's done his homework." Smirking again, I relaxed into the chair, crossing my legs to watch him.

"Fine. Chase." He started, though I interrupted again.

"Do I call you Agent Benedict or Victor? Cos personally, I think using first names are a bit personal when I don't know you." Yeah, I was deliberately being rude - but it was either that or be terrified. I didn't know why I was here. All I knew was that the Americans put criminals in the electric chair, and I didn't want to be deported back to the states.

Victor looked thoroughly confused, before he got a hold of his emotions and cleared his face. "Victor is fine."

"You still haven't told me why I'm here." I accused, crossing my arms again.

"If you give me a chance, I will." He snapped, and I threw my head back to laugh. I really was getting to him. Pausing for a while, he was very matter of fact about what he said next. "Chase, I have reason to believe you're my soulfinder."

Freezing, I stammered, "What? No... That's impossible!" I was trying to convince myself that it couldn't be true. "I'm not even a proper Savant." I finally ended up saying to his grim face.

"Look, I didn't want a criminal for a soulfinder." Standing up, he spoke down to me, as if he actually believed it.

Fury simmering, I stood too, and placed my hands on the table. "A criminal. That's all you see me." I managed to say calmly, though I shook my head and turned away. "Get your facts straight before you come back to talk to me, Benedict." While I had talked, I walked to the door and banged on it, signifying that I was done with the conversation. "I thought soulfinders went off with a bang when you spoke to each other. I thought that they didn't judge each other on what others had told you." I spoke sadly, before the door slid open and I stepped through, cutting off our two worlds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: So here's another Chase chapter. I decided to write for Chase because I had the most amazing idea in an English lesson the other day. (We're doing monologues, and I decided to base mine off of Chase's story. I should get the marks back this Wednesday.) I promise, I know exactly what's going to happen with this one, so updates should be a lot more often than the others. I think. But, as always, please review. I was really happy with the few I have had already, as I did not expect any because this is so new. Enjoy!**

_Chapter Two_

When they told me that I was going to die, I was surprisingly calm. I used to think that when I would die, it would be peaceful, in my sleep, with my soulfinder beside me, there to soothe my fears. No. That wasn't how I was going to go. Instead I was due to go by hanging tomorrow at noon, the standard procedure for murderers, with a soulfinder who believes the net of lies that I've created.

It's really all my fault though.

They told me just before I returned to my cell. When I came in, it was clear that Rose had overheard what they had said because she gave me a hug. "Thought you'd last longer." She managed to say to me, her heavy accent mangling her words. I wasn't actually sure where she was from, but she clearly wasn't English.

"Yeah well." I muttered, clambering up to my bed and laying on it. Wow. My life was going to come to an end for something I hadn't actually done. But they didn't know that. And I'd keep that quiet, because it was me or him and I would always choose him over me. He was my little brother after all.

* * *

I must have lain there for hours. Dinner came and passed, and yet I stayed where I was. I guess Rose understood that I just needed the time to myself because she kept quiet, doing a Soduku on the bed beneath me. Eventually, something did manage to ruin my thoughts, in the form of a visitor.

When I was pushed into the visitor's room, I guess I probably should have expected him to be there. After all, they would have told him about the execution. He was standing up this time, near the barred window, and he turned quickly at the sound of my footsteps. I didn't bother to hide them. "Look who's back again." I managed to say wryly, raising an eyebrow and stopping a couple of meters away from him.

"You're being executed tomorrow." Victor stated. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, but I answered anyway.

"Yup." I popped the 'p', taking a seat at the table that we had sat at earlier today.

"And you didn't tell me?" I was getting really irritated with him. It wasn't as if I knew I was going to be killed, and why was it any of his business? Oh wait... Soulfinder. Right.

"It wasn't as if I knew." I snapped, his face devoid of emotions. "And why would I tell you anyway? You're a stranger." I added viciously, just wanting to see something cross his face. It worked - I saw a flash of hurt cross it, before it closed off again.

"You're right." He folded, something that I wouldn't have expected. The shock must have shown on my face, because he managed a small smile before he gestured for me to follow him towards the door that he must have come through. After a brief conversation, which was angry on one side. Not Vick's. He was too calm and collected for that. Eventually the door opened, and we were escorted down a further corridor, and into a different room. This one was full of guards, and a few comfortable sofas. I guessed that this was the guards' room, where they relaxed on their breaks. The guards themselves grumbled and left the room, shooting accusatory glances towards us.

"Why?" I asked quietly, watching him take a seat on a faded blue sofa. He patted the seat beside him, and it was I sat down quite cautious.

"You're right." He repeated from earlier, only gaining a confused look from me. Victor chuckled, something that I never would have expected. This day just kept getting weirder. "You're right, I am a stranger. I thought we'd get to know each other a bit." I nodded slowly, not sure what he was getting at. "I'll ask you a question, you answer, and then vice versa." He offered as an explanation. "Why don't you go first?"

We sat in silence for a bit before I came up with a mutual question that wouldn't hurt. "Any siblings?"

"Six." He replied, and continued before I could probe him for more. "I'm number three of seven. My oldest brother Trace is a cop, and Uriel's doing a course in Forensic Science." I don't think he realised it, but at some point while he was talking, he had taken my hand and was rubbing circles on the back of it. Strangely, I didn't really mind. "Will's after me, I have no idea what he's doing at the moment. Traveling, I think. Xav's studying medicine in New York." This piqued my interest, though I pretended it didn't affect me. "Yves is being a genius and is doing some work for Apple in his spare time." I looked up in time to watch him roll his eyes, though I was pretty sure it was with affection. "And Zed... Well. He's doing an engineering course at Denver University." It seemed like he had a pretty nice family. "What about you? Any siblings?"

Fondly, I recalled the last time I had seen my siblings. I was pretty sure he already knew everything about my family because he was just that sort of person, but I appreciated that he asked me about them. "I'm the oldest of seven."

"The oldest?" He sounded shocked. Okay, maybe he didn't know that.

"Yeah." I smiled. "I have five brothers and a sister. Elias is actually an author at the moment."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. He uses a pen name though, so you've probably read something of his without realising. Jonas actually runs a dating website." I felt him snort with laughter, and I focused on playing with his hand. "Lucas is next. Urm, Silas does some work for the Savant net. Tracks down some people occasionally. Brings them in for justice. Lazarus has just started at college - he's really interested in the past and stuff." I smiled, hoping that he'd not noticed that I'd brushed over Lucas. What he didn't know didn't hurt him. "And my little sister's fourteen. She's still in school, and trying to fend away boys' advances."

"Where are you from?" Vick asked, and I nudged him in the side. "Hey! What was that for?!"

"It's my turn, nosy!" I giggled. "You're American, obviously. I don't need to ask about that! What do you like so much about working for the FBI?" I was genuinely curious as to what led him to that profession.

"I like helping people." He shrugged. "Mom and Dad used to get us to help with Savant crimes. It felt like the logical next step. So, where are you from, Dr Chase?"

"I was born in America, but you already knew that."

"Yeah, but then you seem to drop off the face of the earth!"

"We moved to India not long after I was born." I reluctantly admitted. "The rest of my siblings were born out there, but have a mixture between a Welsh and an Indian accent." At his shocked expression, I added, "Mom's Welsh. Favourite thing to do?"

"I like relaxing with my family, if you can call the madness of my family relaxing." I found myself tucked under his arm, my head resting on his chest. "Favourite ice-cream?" Pulling away to look at him, I said,

"That's a really random question!"

"I find you learn the most about people with what ice cream they like." He waggled his eyebrows, making me laugh. "You still haven't answered."

"Strawberry." I decided, only for him to mock-groan.

"No! Well, I guess I can deal with that. But there're gonna be arguments with our kids over which is better." I froze, then pulled away to stand up.

"There aren't." I spoke quietly, and Victor looked confused, his indifferent mask gone.

"What?"

"There aren't going to be arguments over which one is better. We won't have kids." I ended up speaking venomously, trying to hurt him as much as possible for ruining a perfectly nice conversation. A conversation where I'd forgotten all about my impending doom. "I'm going to die tomorrow, and you're going to be alone for the rest of your life." I hissed, seeing the shock, hurt, disbelief and then the mask cross his face. I didn't know why I thought that our conversation was relaxing. He was the jerk that I thought he was when he had met earlier. "I'm going to be hung. And you didn't want a criminal as your soulfinder anyway."


End file.
